I was also a little worried about having a house full of people. Nothing horrible had happened over the last two weeks, but this old house had been giving me fits for sure. I couldn’t keep the temperature in the place regulated to save my life. No matter what I did, it would be stiflingly hot in one room and freezing cold in another.
I’d called my Dad about it, but he’d said that it was probably a combination of an old heating system and drafts. I told him that I didn’t think the HVAC was that old in this house because the landlord had installed central air at some point. He offered to have his lawyer get me out of the lease, but I hadn’t been ready for that yet.
There were other small annoyances too, but I couldn’t attribute them to the house. I’d purchased a small table for the entry way so I’d have a place to set my keys and purse when I came in the door, but sometimes my keys wouldn’t be there when I went to get them. I’d find them on the kitchen table or on the bathroom counter upstairs. This was probably just the stress of school and waiting to hear about the new job wearing me down, but I’d never had a problem like that before.
The only other major issue was the scratching. Riley had heard it when she spent the night, but she’d attributed it to drugs. I’d believed it was the drugs too because she’d said she’d heard scratching in the attic and at the basement door. The problem with that was that there’s no basement door in this house. At least that’s what I’d thought.
After the scratching in the attic had kept me awake for the third night, I finally broke down and called my Dad again. I couldn’t afford to lose sleep right now. Every single session of my classes was essential, and if I got sick and had to miss work, it would affect my school and my employment. There wasn’t another mental health center like Carver close by, and I had no desire to move away.
Dad said in an old house like this, the scratching was most likely rats or raccoons. He said the landlord should pay for extermination or relocation of wildlife, but that I shouldn’t wait for the property owner or manager to hire someone. So, Dad called and hired an exterminator. He told me he’d pay for now, but that we’d give the bill to Becky so she could forward it on to the landlord for reimbursement.
The problem was that the exterminator came and found nothing. He didn’t find any signs of rats or raccoons. In fact, he said there was no sign of there ever having been any kind of infestations in the house. I asked him if that was weird given how old the house was. He said it was strange, but if the former tenant had kept the place immaculate plus had regular inspections, it was possible.
I asked the exterminator if there were no rats or raccoons, what was making the scratching noises? He said:
“Your imagination.”
Interestingly enough, after his inspection, the scratching stopped. Oh, and he also showed me the basement door. It was in the pantry floor. I believe the pantry door had been closed the night Riley heard the scratching, so the only thing I could figure out was that she thought the pantry door was the door to the cellar.
“What’s down there?” I asked Bob, the exterminator when he emerged from the square hole in the floor.
“You haven’t been down there?” He seemed shocked.
“No, I didn’t even know the door was there until you found it. I thought my friend was crazy when she said she heard scratching at the basement door.” I left out the part about her being high as a kite.
“The person who rented the house to you didn’t show you the basement entrance?”
“Nope. Like I said, I didn’t even know it was there. I have no idea if she knows. The landlord is from out of state, and he hired a local real estate agent to manage the place.” I explained. “So, what’s down there?”
“You want to come down and see?” He asked.
“Not really. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Well, there’s not much, but it’s a big space. I assume this house is split in half, but the basement isn’t.” He said and looked at the back pantry wall that was part of the house partition. Most of the basement has a concrete floor, but there are rooms down there with a dirt floor. They were most likely used as fruit and vegetable cellars. There’s electricity down there, but not in the rooms with the dirt floors.”
“Is there anything stored down there?”
“I saw a few boxes near the bottom of the stairs. It also looks like there’s a big antique mirror thing and a few pieces of furniture.”
“How did someone get a big antique mirror down those tiny steps?” I mused.
“Probably through the cellar door in the back.” Bob, the exterminator, looked confused.
“Oh, there’s a cellar door? I’m sorry. I haven’t actually gone in the back yard yet. Is it locked up?” The thought of being exposed by an unlocked basement door gave me chills.
“It is. Chained and padlocked. You really haven’t been out in the back yard?”
“Nope. I’m sure I will soon, though. I’ll probably buy a grill and some lawn furniture.”
“Anyway, not my circus. Not my monkeys.” He said with a chuckle. “I think I can get into the other side of the house. There’s another door like this one. No staircase, but I saw a ladder.”
“Wouldn’t that be trespassing since I’m not renting that side?”
“Do you want me to inspect or not? You said nobody lives there. I won’t disturb anything. I’ll see if I can get to the attic on that side as well. Maybe there are raccoons on the other side or something.”
“You mean the attic is split, but the basement isn’t?”
“People do weird things.” He said with a shrug.
“Okay, go ahead. But, please don’t damage anything.” I pleaded.
“Lady, I’m a professional,” He said and disappeared back into the basement.
I sat at my kitchen table with my books and a cup of tea watching the door. I attempted to study, but I couldn’t stop looking up to check the door. He emerged panting and sweating.
“I got a call. I have to go.” Bob, the exterminator, said as he let the basement door slam shut.
I had to jump up and shuffle after him because as soon as the door closed, he made a beeline for the front door. “What about the other side? Did you find anything over there?”
“Nope, nothing. You don’t need an exterminator.” He said and hurried out the front door.
So, that was the experience with the exterminator. I should have wondered why the scratching stopped after his visit if he didn’t exterminate anything, but I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I thought that perhaps the scratching had been something else. Maybe it was just creaking wood from the house settling. With the scratching noises gone, I’d been getting better sleep. That meant I’d misplacing my things less often too. I think.
Anyway, back to the housewarming party. I was starting to think that no one was going to show when at 6:30 I was still sitting alone in my living room with my nose in a book. The I remembered that my college friends didn’t care about being on time. They still thought being fashionably late was cool.
This knowledge suddenly made me feel separated from them. My friends were trying to ring one more year of carefree irresponsibility out of life, and I had no desire to participate. I wouldn’t have been sad if no one came to the party, and I could pass out on my couch wrapped around a psych textbook.
That was not in the cards. The doorbell rang a little after seven, or I should say it squawked. The device was ancient and barely worked, but it was enough to rouse me from my reading.
I opened the door, and Riley, Tanner, John, Kenny, and Lance were outside with a keg. I stepped back and waved my arm to welcome them in. After that, a steady stream of people poured into the house until the downstairs was completely full and people had to spill out into the backyard. I had no idea who all the people were, but apparently, word got around that there was a party.
After retreating upstairs to my bedroom, I called Cameron. This party was supposed to be for my friends and
me, and it didn’t feel right without him there. He agreed to come over, so I went downstairs to wait for him.
My intention was to go out on the front porch and sit in the quiet for a few minutes. For some reason, having all of these people in my house was making the place feel hostile and alien to me. It didn’t feel like home.
Before I could make it out the front door, John handed me a beer and Riley shoved a shot of bourbon into my hand. I knew that I shouldn’t drink them and that I needed to lay off alcohol even on the weekends. But, my mouth started to water as soon as the alcohol burn hit my nose. I felt this pull in my gut that was more like a sucking need.
Just one more time.
I told myself as I threw back the shot and then chased it with the beer. I immediately felt more relaxed, and the hostility emanating from the house started to fade away. It was as if I’d appeased an angry friend, and that was the first time I thought that there might be something sharing the place with me.
“That’s my girl!” Riley shouted and then danced her way back into the crowd.
“Hey, Sammy. How have you been?” John said and shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Congratulations on the job, by the way. Riley told me about it when she invited me to the party.”
“Thanks, John.”
I was about to say something about the glass and how I hadn’t ordered it yet when someone bumped into me from behind sending me crashing into John. He wrapped an arm around me to keep me from falling even farther, and our eyes locked. It was a weird time to have a moment, but here we had one just the same.
His mouth felt like it was a centimeter from mine, and for a moment, I really did want him to kiss me. Then the door swung open behind us, and Cameron stepped through the threshold. I suddenly felt guilty and pushed myself away from John a little more forcefully than I’d intended.
“Thanks again,” I mumbled and shot out the front door with my cheeks burning from a sudden and inexplicable humiliation.
I wasn’t sure if Cameron or John would follow me out, and I wasn’t sure which one of them I wanted to come after me. I heard the porch creak, and when I turned around, it was Cameron.
“You okay?” He asked earnestly. “Was that guy bothering you?”
“No, it was nothing like that. He’s an old friend.”
“A friend, huh?”
I think I picked up on a hint of jealousy in his tone. I sat down on the steps and wasn’t a bit surprised when Cameron joined me.
“If you’re hinting about the awkward embrace thing, someone ran into me, and I fell. John just caught me.”
“I don’t know if I’d describe that embrace as awkward.” He said, and this time there was definitely some jealousy.
“Are you jealous or something?” I teased.
“Yeah, actually a little.” He said and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.
“Samantha, it’s your party.”
“No one is going to notice I’m gone. Trust me.”
“What if something happens. You don’t want to leave and have the cops come, or these people burn the house down.”
“Riley’s boyfriend Tanner is here. He and John will keep things from getting too crazy.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want.” He stood up and offered me his hand.
“You have to drive, though. I had a beer and shot.” I said and realized I’d been an awful host. “I’m sorry. I invited you to a party and then didn’t offer you a drink. Do you want to stay and grab a beer?”
“Nah. I don’t drink. Let me take you someplace. When we come back, I’ll confer with your responsible friends, and we’ll get this place cleared out a respectable hour.”
“That would be amazing. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Chapter Five
Camron took me out for milkshakes which was pretty much the sweetest thing ever. We sat and talked for a couple of hours, and then he took me home. He and Tanner had the house emptied out by eleven.
John was gone by the time we got back. I’d need to call him. I don’t know why, but it felt like we should clear the air. I wasn’t his girlfriend, but it also didn’t feel right to keep stringing him along. Not going out with John was supposed to keep my life simple, but now even not dating John was getting complicated.
I needed new friends. But, maybe I didn’t. I had my house and Cameron, so perhaps that was all I needed. Shutting out all of the old stuff from before I got this place would make things easier.
What was I saying? I suddenly felt confused and very anxious. I looked up and saw a bottle of bourbon sitting on my coffee table. While I had said that I’d stop drinking, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. I’d quit tomorrow.
The bottle was almost half full, but somehow, I’d managed to finish it in just under thirty minutes. I tried to stand up so I could go to the kitchen and get a glass of water, and the room tilted.
I could also swear that the shadows in the corner of the living room had moved toward me. I blinked my eyes, and then rubbed them with the backs of my hands. When I looked again, everything was where it was supposed to be. It didn’t help.
The room being righted again made my stomach churn, and I felt the acidic mix of booze and milkshake bubble up into the back of my throat. I found my feet and sprinted as fast as my heavy, drunk legs could carry me to the little guest bathroom that was added under the stairs between the hallway and the dividing wall.
I opened the door and fell to my knees. I’ll spare you the details on my being sick, but I was in there for what felt like an hour. Every time I thought I had to be done, it would start all over again. When the episode was finally over, I was left shaking and sweating on the bathroom floor. I had my arms curled around the toilet like I was hugging an old friend.
Just before I could pass out with my face resting on the commode seat, someone grabbed my hair and yanked it back hard. My eyes flew open and found no one there, but there were footsteps up the stairs. They moved down the upstairs hall to the empty bedroom. That door slammed, and it took everything in me to stifle the scream.
Adrenaline shot through me, and I got up from the bathroom floor and ran out the front door. I managed to have the presence of mind to grab my purse on the way out. From the curb, I searched through my bag for my cell phone without taking my eyes of the front door. There was an intruder in my house, and I had to call the cops.
I looked up at what is my bedroom window, and there was someone up there looking down at me. They were standing a bit back, so all I could see was a silhouette. But, there was definitely someone there. The night air was suddenly filled with a blood-curdling scream, and it took me a moment to realize that I was one screaming.
Porch lights went on at a few houses around me, and some of my neighbors shuffled outside in their robes and pajamas. They were staring and pointing at me, but I didn’t care because I’m not alone anymore. Sirens approached my street, and I allowed myself to take a deep breath.
When I saw the blue and red lights turn the corner, I relaxed a little more. A police cruiser pulled up in front of the house, and two officers stepped out. They were both men just a little older than me, but they were tall and vigorous looking. I felt safe.
“Is he still in there?” One of them asked me, but I’m not sure which one.
“I think so, but he could have gone out the back door. Or, if he went into the basement, he could be on the other side of the house. The door to the cellar is in the pantry floor.”
“Do you know if he’s armed?” The other one asked while the first calls for backup.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll cover the back door until backup gets here.” One of them said.
In a blur, one of them went through the front door, and the other walked around to the back yard. I waited on the front lawn biting my fingernails to the quick. Another patrol car arrived with lights on but no sirens, and
two more officers disappeared toward my house.
After a while, the other two officers came out, got back in their cars, and drove away without a word. A few minutes later, the first two policemen who’d arrived on the scene came out the front door looking annoyed.
“Ma’am, could you come here please?” The one with the blonde hair said.
He motioned me over to the spot where they stood at the bottom of my porch steps. I couldn’t focus my eyes well enough to read his badge. I thought I’d thrown up all of the alcohol I’d drunk earlier, but apparently, I hadn’t.
“Ma’am, how much have you had to drink tonight?” The other one asked. “And if you say anything other than a lot, I’m not going to believe you. Frankly, you reek of alcohol and vomit.”
I just nodded my head in agreement. As the adrenaline wore off, I could feel how intoxicated I was. I swayed on my feet as I waited for the officers in front of me to tell me what was going on.
“Let me cut to the chase.” The blond one said sternly. “There’s no one in your house. There never was anyone in your house. I mean, not after the party you had earlier, anyway.”
“What if they went out through the back door? Or, what if they left through the back door in the other side of the house?” I asked as I tried to steady myself.
“Ma’am, all of the doors except the front are locked from the inside.” The second one said.
“But, what about the windows? The guy could have gone out a window.” I felt my stomach heave, and suddenly all I wanted to do was go inside and lie down.
“The windows are all nailed shut from the outside. Both sides of the house. None of the windows were broken, so there is no way anyone came in or went out of them.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on.” I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to remove the double vision plaguing me.
Devil Hour: A Samantha Hainsley Cozy Ghost Mystery (Things That Go Bump in the Night Book 1) Page 5
